


already gone

by sanacult



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: 5+1 Things, Grief/Mourning, Inspired by Poetry, M/M, slight hints of supernatural occurrences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28326837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanacult/pseuds/sanacult
Summary: Kise Ryota is dead. Has been dead for the past few years. An unfortunate car accident in the middle of the night, a sad loss of an aspiring actor. Only twenty four years old with so much before him, truly a tragedy for the family.
Relationships: Kise Ryouta/Midorima Shintarou
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	already gone

**Author's Note:**

> i havent written a mcd fic since 2016, take this and think whatever you want. 
> 
> the whole fic is inspired by zbigniew herberts poem "what our dead do"!! his poetry makes me feel insane

**this is how our dead**

**look after us**

Kise Ryota is dead. Has been dead for the past few years. An unfortunate car accident in the middle of the night, a sad loss of an aspiring actor. Only twenty four years old with so much before him, truly a tragedy for the family. 

Midorima was on the other side of the hospital when it happened. He didn't get to say goodbye, only managed to storm into the room as the green line turned flat and Ryota’s mother screamed. The last thing Ryota has left him was an almost unnoticeable smile on his face.

Later, his mother told him Ryota was waiting. That he managed to say his name despite the injuries that made it hard to breathe.

**i. they warn us through dreams** ****

**_fourth autumn_ **

Shintaro doesn't dream often, but when he does it's either things he doesn't remember when he wakes up or nightmares that leave him awake for the rest of the night. 

Or sometimes, Ryota will appear in his dreams. He won't say anything, in some dreams he even won't _look_ in Shintaro’s direction, but he can always feel like Ryota knows he's there. He remains out of reach at all times, never going closer than an arm's length, but to Shintaro it feels closer than they've ever been. It's a comforting presence, even if it's a product of a grief-ridden brain. It lets him pretend he never went away. 

This time, they're standing in the middle of an empty highway at night (or is the sky just so dark from the storm that's raging on?) and Ryota turns his head back, looking straight into Shintaro’s eyes. Shintaro will never get over how beautiful their color is, gold and honey and a glint of divine light in certain angles. Ryota’s dressed in his old Kaijo uniform, white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and tucked into grey dress pants, jacket nowhere to be found. _He probably left it at home,_ passes through Shintaro’s mind before he can realise how stupid it sounds. (The real uniform is hidden away in the furthest corner of the wardrobe, never to be taken out again.) He sends him a wide smile, teeth showing, and Shintaro can hear the loud _Midorimacchi_ in his mind clearly despite the thunder. It feels like the sun is coming out from behind the clouds. _He misses this._

He wants to come closer, wants to reach his hand out and touch him, even if it's the last time he dreams of Ryota—

The lightning strikes the space between them once he takes a step forward. When it's gone, Ryota isn't there as well. Shintaro is alone, and the flashes of light just keep on getting more frequent, keep on landing near him, enough to intimidate but not too close to actually harm him. Shintaro sits down on the yellow line and waits. Ryota will come back, he hasn't told him everything yet. 

When he appears again, his face doesn't look quite like _Ryota._ It's similar, the features are the same, but something is off; Shintaro is close to waking up. In a matter of minutes, seconds even, he's going to wake up to the reality where Ryota is gone. He can feel himself starting to become aware of his surroundings. He wants to stay on the empty road forever.

Ryota slides something towards him on the ground and when Shintaro picks it up, it turns out to be a key to his flat. It turns around in his palm twice and melts. Before Shintaro can look up again, he opens his eyes only to stare at the ceiling. 

It's been so long, and yet these dreams still take a toll on him. They blur a line between what's real and what's not, and it leaves him with a hole shaped like Ryota’s smile in his heart. He feels like a hollowed shell drifting through a limbo of some sorts. It's hard to concentrate for the rest of the day, every move and interaction happening on autopilot. 

But one thing that stays at the back of his head is the melted key. Shintaro isn't as superstitious as to think that dreams have meanings or can be prophetic, but it's _Ryota_ (even if not real) who showed him the key. But what exactly does it mean?

He decides to lock his door twice instead of once while heading out and takes out the hidden spare key from the fake potted plant in the hallway. He focuses on things that have locks and on several doors during the day. Nothing happens. It was just a pointless dream.

But in the evening, when he's back from work, he'll learn that a robbery took place in the flat next to his. 

Maybe Ryota that visits him isn't a product of imagination, after all. 

**ii. bring back lost money**

**_second spring_ **

Shintaro is sure he left the money in the living room, but it's not there. Nor in the kitchen or the bedroom. He even checked the bathroom; nothing. It's not a big sum, but it still means being ten thousand yen short. 

Shintaro shrugs and goes to put on his shoes. Spring has finally begun, and while for others it means the world going back to life, to Shintaro it's the time to confront death. His mind is blank as his feet carry him towards the cemetery and stop in front of Kise’s family grave. He sits on the small stone bench and stares at the empty flower vase Ryota’s mother brought there some time ago. There’s no water in it, but that doesn't stop him from putting the white tulips he bought on the way in. 

“Momoi called last week,” he starts talking into the void. His younger self would surely mock him for this. “They want to name a tournament after you. Some charity thing, I didn't really listen to her. All they need is your family to agree.” _Ryota’s family._ The words feel like venom on his tongue. Shintaro’s eyes dart down to look at his hand and the simple silver ring on his finger; it's a bitter reminder of all the plans that never had the chance to become more than that. Of all the missed opportunities. “You'd like that, I think. You'd probably say something about one-upping Akashi and laugh.” 

The lump in his throat makes it hard to say anything else. Shintaro doesn't cry, doesn't like to cry, but the feeling of his body being ready to burst into tears at any moment still lingers. He feels shaky all over and his hand reaches into his pocket immediately, fishing out a pack of cigarettes. It's a bad habit he picked up, one Ryota would frown upon if he knew, but it somehow calms Shintaro down. 

As he opens the pack, rolled up money bills fall out of it. Shintaro chuckles quietly. “Already doing charity, Kise-san?” 

**iii. hunt for jobs**

**_first winter_ **

Shintaro, despite his parents’ disappointment, doesn't become a doctor. There is a resentment for hospitals and medics rooted deep in him now, to the point where the smell of antiseptic makes him nauseous. So, Shintaro doesn't become a doctor. He drops out of university and starts looking for jobs in newspapers. Only after a next convenience store failure does he remember. 

_During Ryota’s funeral, he meets a family friend; an older woman, kind and dignified, the owner of a prosperous company. She stops him after the ceremony and introduces herself._

_“You must be Midorima-kun, right? Ryo-chan used to talk about you a lot,” she says, tone melancholic. Shintaro can only nod his head. “If you're ever in need, don't hesitate to call.” She hands him a business card and walks away, leaving Shintaro staring at the concrete._

The card sits in a small wooden bowl on the coffee table. Shintaro picks it up and types in the number. It's been a few months, but maybe she remembers him. 

**iv. whisper the numbers of lottery tickets**

**_third summer_ **

Shintaro avoids Oha Asa now; cancer was supposed to be in the first place on the day of Ryota's death. He threw away all the useless things he got himself as lucky items over the years and never mentioned horoscopes again. It felt like getting rid of some part of himself, but then again — Ryota took most of Shintaro to the grave with him. Oha Asa felt like a speck of dust being swiped away. 

Takao still seems to think Shintaro’s lucky, though, whether it's because of Oha Asa or the flawless reputation he made for himself as a basketball player. It's no surprise when he shows up at Shintaro’s flat with a lottery ticket and the lucky pencil he stole back in high school.

“They can be even random numbers. Please, Shin-chan.” 

Shintaro sighs, but takes the pencil anyway. Oha Asa would've told him the numbers in the morning, but he's left to his own guesses now. He tries to remember any specific number patterns, when it hits him. Ryota used to dribble his ball in a certain rhythm during a warmup. He slides the ticket closer and begins circling the numbers. 

Four. Two. Eight. Three. Six. Two. Then he adds a twelve, a gut feeling. 

Takao takes the ticket in his hands like it's sacred. A few days later, he calls and thanks Shintaro for a trip abroad, inviting him to France. He declines politely. 

France reminds him of Ryota too much; of his love for the language, of all the poems he read to Shintaro, of their trip to Paris and exchanging engagement rings in their hotel room, full of laughter. It was the happiest night of Shintaro's life, just a year before it all came crashing down. 

He shakes his head before the thoughts can cloud his mind again. Instead, he focuses on answering emails from work. He tries to ignore the email from an old Oha Asa subscription with today's ranking and Gemini on top of it. 

**v. or when they can't do this**

**knock with their fingers on the windows**

**_tenth autumn_ **

Time heals even the deepest wounds, Shintaro can finally admit. Moving on is still hard, but at least it doesn't hurt as much anymore. It's more like a scar that he sometimes scratches by accident. 

He still sees Ryota in his life, but there's more happy memories than not. Ryota's in dreams that make him feel better for the rest of the day, in the small things that turn out to be in his favour, in various reminders of their past. 

And sometimes, when the wound threatens to reopen, something falls down from a shell or his neighbours scream, distracting Shintaro successfully. 

**vi.**

**_seventeen springs ago_ **

“If you try to cut my hair ever again, I'll kill you,” Shintaro threatens, looking into the mirror at the choppy bangs. Ryota laughs, loud and full of mischief.

“Just know I'll haunt you forever if you do that.” 

**Author's Note:**

> death fic for a dead fandom and ship lets go
> 
> its very rushed at the end but i needed to get this out of my google docs asap


End file.
